patronustrip:

Every fucking time.

Not every time, brew is vital to my sanity. Not gonna lie though, many a times has my dad called from the bottom of the stairs “Katy, there’s a tea down here!” and I take an all too serious moment to raise my hands, despairingly, to the ceiling and give a tiny wail. My dad makes sure to ignore me when I stand there looking forlorn whispering apologises as I sip the cold, COLD Earl Grey, while the kettle roars for another cup.